


Why?

by LazuliAlekto



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 13:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13031844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazuliAlekto/pseuds/LazuliAlekto
Summary: How would Noct explain why he loves Ignis?A few little spoilers for Episode Ignis in here, just a warning.





	Why?

 

  Why do I love Ignis?

  How do you describe a colour to someone who can not see?  How do you describe the sound of laughter to someone who can not hear?  I don’t know that I can do the question full justice, but I will try.

  I love Ignis because of who he is, everything that he is, everything that he does.

  It’s the sound of his voice, almost always so calm and serene.  That deep accent that thrills me to my very toes.  The tone in which he says my name.  The snarkiness that sneaks in when he’s verbally eviscerating someone who has had the temerity to displease him, me included.  The hint of laughter when he can slip a ridiculous pun into a conversation and make me groan at his silliness.  The way he drags out the last syllable of a word, especially when he calls me Noct.  It makes me shiver and I will find myself looking towards him, just wishing for a kiss every time he does.  He knows this, and it brings that gorgeous smirk to his face.  Smug bastard.

  Oh, Gods that smirk.  That does things to me that I have just as much trouble describing.  It makes me weak at the knees, creates knots in my stomach that only he can soothe – or tighten, depending on his mood.  Full lips quirking at the corners, the slight hint of a smile, usually accompanied by the raising of a thin eyebrow.  To use his word, sultry.  He teases me with that smirk.  The way he purses his lips when he’s trying not to show his annoyance over something and people turn on their heels at the sight, knowing that to stay will result in being told off, I’m not ashamed to say it’s hot, really hot when he does that.  And when he really smiles, those rare goofy ones, all teeth and hint of his overbite.  Those make me want to drop at his feet and beg for more.  Almost as much as when he parts his lips when he’s thinking with a far away look in his eyes.

  His eyes, the colour of seafoam, peridot, emerald or a lovely aquamarine depending on the light, twinkling with joy, narrowing when he’s about to express his displeasure, particularly when he’s out of Ebony.  The way they don’t ever hide from me, they always give him away, not that he generally tries very hard.  It’s rare that I can’t tell his mood by those beautiful eyes.  Windows to the soul indeed, as he might say.  I particularly love the way they go all soft when he looks at me, he always looks at me like I am something wonderful.  It’s how I look at him.  But when they go dark, the green a little ring around black pupils blown wide, his talented tongue flicking out to wet his lips, just before he kisses me, that desiring look, it’s like nothing else in this world and it takes my breath away every damn time.

  Ignis’ body is a thing to worship, but it’s the way he uses it that entrances me most.  As a child he was less graceful than he is now, the pair of us getting so many scraped knees and elbows as we raced around the Citadel, hand in hand, escaping our carers, avoiding the Crownsguard.  He joined them when he was fifteen, and Gods, his body changed so much and quickly when he did.  Tall for his age, he’d been thin and gangly before, after he became sculpted and lithe, slim and so graceful I could sit and watch him for hours as he learnt to flip and cartwheel, spin and drop into the splits.  That made my mouth go dry.  It’s easy to forget how deadly he is most of the time, but it’s always brought to the fore when I watch him train.  His hands are lethal, long fingered, deft and accurate.  Watching him twirl a knife or blade of any sort is kind of mesmerising, the way he does it so casually, always so assured.  The day he was made a full member of the Crownsguard at eighteen I think I was prouder than he was and the gift I gave him that day, he wears it still.  A little reminder around his neck that I sometimes reach out and touch, curling my fingers around the tiny skull resting at the dip in his throat.  It always gets me a hint of that smirk when I do.  If that’s why I do it, well, who can blame me really.

  As for what he does to me with that glorious body of his?  If I start on _that_ , I’ll never stop.  And Gods, I never want _him_ to stop.

  So, physically, it’s his eyes and hands that turn me into goo.

  I won’t talk about those bloody gloves of his.  I want to declare those illegal, because, damn.  But then I wouldn’t get to watch him strip them off, so I always decide not to.  The way he tugs them off is…seductive.

  But then, everything about him is seductive, sexually arousing in a careless way, all the more so because he doesn’t _try_ , he just…is.

  As for his brain, because, let’s face it, you can’t talk about Ignis Scientia without mentioning his amazing complicated brain.  He’s smarter than anyone else I have ever met.  Sharp, focused, diligent, shrewd.  Always looking for a tactical advantage.  Useful when taking care of a Prince who likes to sneak out.  And let me tell you now, it wasn’t always my idea.  He’d like people to think it was and that he always took the blame when we were caught, but he was just as keen for our little excursions as I was.  Ignis is like a walking encyclopedia of knowledge, he can pull facts out of thin air.  I swear he must have a photographic memory or something.  And let me tell you, it’s not all about the correct way to sterilise something or how to administer first aid or how the coeurl population is declining or how best to infiltrate a base, or some other military strategy, some of his knowledge is decidedly questionable.  It’s that knowledge that I get the most enjoyment out of.  But his proclivity for explaining why a certain action will reduce me to a puddle at his feet is the sexiest thing ever.  At least it is until he does it.

  I love his control and love even more watching him come undone.  That has to be when he’s most beautiful.  It’s something I am the only one who gets to see.  And I love that too.  The flush to his ridiculously high cheekbones, the way he will gasp, or groan, grip hold of me like I might disappear, how he’ll kiss me like he’s trying to give me his soul.  Yeah, that’s beyond words.

  But most of all, it’s his heart.

  I know, I know, people seem to think he doesn’t have one with the way he’s so…Ignisy, but he really does and it’s huge.  His capacity for love is infinite.  He just doesn’t show it easily.  When he does though, Gods it’s so damned amazing.  He would literally do anything for those he cares about without thought or care for his own wellbeing.  This is a man who spent _years_ perfecting a 'recipeh' (ha, that word, the way he says it makes me grin like an idiot every time) just because I mentioned once that I really liked a certain pastry.  He would never let me ask how it was actually made, he took pride in working it out for himself, just so he could see the look on my face when he got it right.  He’s the man who grew up with me and did all he could to bring me out of my depression over my position, my dad’s failing health, spoiling me shamelessly, encouraging me and even when I drove him to distraction he was still always there, quietly giving me a share of his strength.  It was him I turned to when I had nightmares because he understood without words exactly what I needed.  He’s the man who would take on the world, the Astrals even, to make sure I was safe.  He’s the man that would sacrifice everything to halt the prophecy of my fate.  I know this, because he did.  He fought for me, tried to ease my burden, went up against a man twisted by two thousand years of hatred to spare me.  Because he loves me.  Devotion is to some just a word.  To me it’s Ignis.  He’d say it was his oath to protect me, that he swore to do so, but it’s so much more than that.  His act of love and devotion saved me from a cruel fate and I will _never_ be able to express how I feel about that.  I try to show him, and I know he understands.

  It’s in the way he now says ‘Your Majesty’ when he addresses me in public and sometimes in private, the way he calls me his ‘King’, that has nothing to do with a title and everything to do with how he feels.  He makes me feel worthy, though, really, I'm not.  I tell him often that he should be the one to rule, that he’s the one more suited to it and he chuckles as he runs those wonderful fingers through my hair, selfless as he is it’s a ridiculous statement to him.  It’s not to me, I mean it every time I say it and he knows this too.  He knows everything there is to know about me and still he loves me, despite my flaws, despite the way I drive him nuts at times.  And neither of us would have it any other way.  He says he will _always_ be by my side.  I wouldn’t be who I am without him, only half of myself.  And in some way, somehow, I am that for him too.

  I may be the one acclaimed as the Chosen, the one who brought back the dawn, but it’s Ignis that is the hero in my story, _my_ hero, my Ignis.

  There are so many reasons why I love him, and these are just a few.  I could go on for days and still never get close to everything.  He could say it better, he has the vocabulary for it, not me, but I hope I’ve come close.

 

  I love Ignis…because he’s Ignis.  That’s really what it boils down to. 

 


End file.
